


Yours for the Keeping

by elenajames, gostisbehere (castielsstarr)



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, Anxiety, Barebacking, Blood Drinking, Caretaking, Coming In Pants, Coping with trauma, Developing Relationship, Frottage, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Travis Konecny/Ivan Provorov, Light Angst, M/M, Mentioned Claude Giroux/Danny Briere, Mentioned Nicklas Backstrom/Alex Ovechkin, Multi, Past Relationship(s), Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-09 08:06:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16446026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elenajames/pseuds/elenajames, https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielsstarr/pseuds/gostisbehere
Summary: Left on his own after being turned, Ivan feels lucky to have Claude; it's not easy being a fledgling vampire without the guidance of a maker, but - with a bit of outside help - they start to piece things together.





	Yours for the Keeping

**Author's Note:**

> Art and Playlist by our wonderful artist [dannybsdadbod](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dannybsdadbod/pseuds/dannybsdadbod) can be found [here.](https://dannybsdadbod.dreamwidth.org/432.html)  
> This fic has really been a labor of love for us both, and honestly we anticipate a few timestamps down the road. We hope you all enjoy reading it as much as we've loved working on it. 
> 
> Please do note that there are references to what could be read as past noncon, as well as Ivan dealing with the trauma from his turning throughout the fic.

Ivan’s spread out on the bed, clutching the sheets while Claude fucks him. He’s open-mouthed panting, letting himself get lost in the pleasure until his fangs start to drop. Closing his mouth to hide them, Ivan muffles his sounds and tries to keep his lips from parting so Claude can’t see, unsure of how he’ll react. It backfires when Claude slows, concern furrowing his brow as he looks down at Ivan. 

 

“Hey, what’s wrong? That not working for you?” 

 

Shaking his head, Ivan realizes his mistake when Claude stops all together. He had been getting close, but the coil of pleasure fades a little as Claude stills. Ivan whines, mouth opening ever so slightly as he starts to protest. Claude’s gaze zones in on his mouth in a blink, and Ivan braces himself against the inevitable freakout. 

 

It never comes. 

 

Instead, Claude’s callused thumb brushes Ivan’s bottom lip, pulling it down enough that he can see Ivan’s fledgling fangs more clearly. “S’this what’s wrong?” Claude asks softly. He hums when Ivan nods, dipping down to kiss him gently. “I don’t mind. Do you wanna keep going?” 

 

“Yeah,” Ivan breathes, moaning aloud when Claude picks up pretty much right where he left off. Wrapping his legs around Claude’s waist, Ivan coaxes Claude so that he’ll fuck him that much faster. He doesn’t mean to let his mouth drop open, but every drive of Claude’s hips makes him pant and gasp. Claude, to his credit, looks Ivan in the eye as much as he does at his teeth, stealing kisses here and there as they move. 

 

“Your fangs, they mean you need to feed?”

 

“S -  _ ah _ \- sometimes.” Claude’s thrust hits his prostate and he must be able to see Ivan’s fangs in full with the way he has to drop his head back with how full he feels.

 

Claude’s pace slows to a roll of his hips that’s keeping Ivan on edge and it’s fucking  _ unfair _ . “Do you need to now? I could feed you.”

 

Ivan goes tight around Claude when the flash of panic hits him. He’s survived on blood bags and willing sips from other meals, but he hasn’t bit many people himself. “I um. I’m not sure. I don’t do this?” It’s vague but it’s true. He doesn’t hook up, he doesn’t feed from people, he doesn’t know how he got here with Claude, but he’s being fucked so thoroughly that he doesn’t regret any of it.

 

“Scared of hurting me, eh?” Claude’s voice is soft, almost fond.

 

Ivan whines and nods, embarrassed by his inexperience. Fledglings are supposed to have help from their maker, but Ivan is trying to do his best figuring this out himself. 

 

“Just a little?” Brushing a fingertip over Ivan’s bottom lip, Claude coaxes him to open his mouth again. Anxiety curls in his chest, but Ivan allows Claude to press his finger in and up against one of his fangs. He can sense it as soon as the skin has broken, tender flesh parting under the sharp point of his fang. Claude gasps a little, but doesn’t pull back. Instead, he runs his finger over Ivan’s tongue, spreading salty-copper with every sweep. 

 

Ivan suckles at it, whining around the digit in his mouth as the first tiny swallow he gets sends a spark of warmth through him. It’s not much at all, but it’s enough to send him over the edge when Claude hits his prostate again. Closing his eyes against the tears that suddenly well up in his eyes, Ivan gasps as Claude fucks him gently through it. 

 

There’s still blood in this mouth, and Ivan chases the taste of it with his tongue, cleaning his lips before gathering himself enough to look up at Claude. He’s just in time to see Claude come, his mouth dropping open a little as his hips rut forward, pushing himself as deep as he can get. Ivan squirms at the loose, wet feeling of his hole when Claude gently pulls out, feeling exposed until Claude settles next to him and drags the covers over them both. 

 

Curling an arm around him, Claude coaxes Ivan into his side. There’s a click and a hum as the TV turns on, but Claude leaves the volume on low, the drone of voices just enough to break the silence. Ivan shivers and curls closer to Claude’s side. The movie is barely keeping his attention - it’s some car chase thing - and his head feels foggy. He needs to get in touch with his supplier tomorrow.

 

He goes easy when Claude places his palm on his cheek and turns his head so Claude can look him in the face.

 

“You haven’t eaten in a while, have you?”

 

“It’s okay.” Ivan knows he can’t get away without answering the question, but he’s going to try.

 

“You’re pale. Your pupils are pinpoint. Ivan, I-”

 

“I wouldn’t want t-”

“Hey.” His lips are soft on Ivan’s, helping to soothe him. “I know you’re afraid of hurting me. I’m willing to take that chance if it means you’re healthy and fed.”

 

“It’s not smart.”

 

“I’ll make you a deal. I have a favor to call in with another vampire in the Metro. Let me feed you tonight, just enough to get you feeling better, and I’ll get in touch with him tomorrow. He can help you get more comfortable with everything.”

 

Having someone to teach him would be better than this constant anxiety. “Who is it?”

 

“Let’s see if he can work with us first. He’ll be good to you.” There must still be a touch of panic on Ivan’s face. “I wouldn’t let you go to Crosby.”

 

That takes away a little of the worry building in Ivan’s chest. Crosby, while one of the older and most well-known vampires in the Eastern Conference, isn’t known for his kindness with fledglings outside of his own.

 

Claude wraps his arm around Ivan’s waist so he’s tucked close. Claude’s blood is pulsing - he can sense it - and he  _ wants _ . There’s a hollowness in his gut that he knows all too well as hunger, and it’s driving him to press his lips against Claude’s neck. When he feels his fangs drop again he pulls back, realizing that’s too much. His control is good, but he isn’t willing to risk it, not when it’s been so long.

 

Ivan takes his hand, his thumb resting against the base of Claude’s fingers and his own curling overtop Claude’s palm. It opens up the inside of his wrist when he tugs it to him, looking at Claude for approval.

 

“Go ahead,” he says, brushing Ivan’s short hair back from his forehead, as if it’s in danger of getting in his way. It’s a small comfort and it eases Ivan’s anxiety enough to let him set his mouth to Claude’s wrist. His fangs scrape Claude’s skin lightly. It’s thin here, will take barely any pressure to open a vein. 

 

Before he can change his mind, Ivan bites down, letting his fangs sink through until blood fills his mouth. It’s richer, feels thicker on his tongue than before when he was given a taste from Claude’s finger.

 

Ivan swallows and it’s hot down his throat and into his stomach. It’s a slow feeding, but this is the only way he can be sure that he’s not hurting Claude or that he’s not taking too much. Claude’s looking at him when Ivan sneaks a glance, his face a bit pinched, but his gaze soft and a little wondering. He reaches out to brush Ivan’s cheek with his other hand, and the touch makes Ivan sigh. For once, Claude’s fingers feel cool against his skin, the blood sending warmth trickling through his veins. 

 

Gently, Ivan eases his fangs from Claude’s wrist, lapping at the bite until the skin starts to knit together and the flow of blood ceases. He keeps it up until there’s only a pair of faint, shiny-pink marks to give the bite away. Licking a stray drop from his lip, Ivan freezes when he realizes Claude is still watching curiously. 

 

“Sorry,” he breathes, not sure what Claude’s reaction will be; he wouldn’t be the first one to panic at the sight of his own blood. Instead, Claude leans in to kiss him, just a quick brush of lips. 

 

“Is that better?” 

 

Warmth is still curling through Ivan’s body in a way he hasn’t felt in a while; blood bags are fine, but they never quite warm him up like this. It’s making him sleepy, being full and content and  _ safe _ here with Claude. Settling back into Claude’s side, Ivan lets himself be held and kissed softly. Claude keeps running a thumb over his cheek like he can’t quite believe the blush there and it only serves to keep Ivan’s face pink. His tongue sneaks past Ivan’s lips with one kiss, just touching the tip of one of Ivan’s fangs. Again, Claude doesn’t flinch or panic; instead, he just licks lightly into Ivan’s mouth, keeping things slow and easy. 

 

“You can sleep here,” Claude offers. Ivan’s just warm enough and feeling vulnerable enough to agree. It’s easier to not panic about what he’s done when Claude is still holding him, the drone of the TV in the background. He falls asleep with his face tucked against Claude’s neck, the steady beat of his heart in Ivan’s ears. 

 

* * *

 

It takes less than a day to hear back from Claude’s contact. He warned Ivan that it could take a while; he was a very busy man and his dislike of technology meant he didn’t always respond in a timely fashion.

 

“I’ll be damned, that was quick,” Claude murmurs while tapping out a reply. “He said he’s happy to mentor you,” he looks at Ivan who’s sitting next to him on the couch. “And the timing works, too. You’ll be able to have a couple days with him when we’re there next.”

 

Ivan’s anxious again, that fluttering in his stomach making him feel shaky. “Who is it? Am I allowed to know now?”

 

Claude kisses his cheek. “It’s Bäckström.”

 

Nicklas Bäckström? This is Claude’s contact? Bäckström’s a good guy, Ivan has heard, but he’s intimidating. One of the oldest known vampires is going to teach him. It’s a smart move, Ivan knows that, but it doesn’t make him any less afraid of the prospect.

 

“Ivan?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“If you don’t want t-”

 

“I do. Yes. Let him know.” Swallowing down the anxiety clawing at his throat, Ivan leans into Claude’s side, letting his proximity and warmth soothe some of the worry.

  
  


* * *

 

Claude offers to get a car and drop him off at Nicklas’ house when they get into town, but Ivan declines. Having his… lover, boyfriend, whatever they are - drop him off doesn’t feel right.

 

Nicklas is quick to answer the door, not giving Ivan much time to decide on what to say other than to stutter over “Hi, um. I-”

 

“Ivan, good. Claude told me you were on your way. Come in.” He retreats into the house, leaving Ivan to close the door behind him and follow.

 

“Red or white?”

 

He’s confused by the question at first, but seeing a couple of wine bottles on the kitchen island clarifies it. “Um, red. Thank you.”

 

With bottle and glasses in hand, Nicklas leads him to the living room, gesturing to have a seat before pouring their glasses and handing one over to Ivan. The cushion is soft, giving under his weight and letting him sink in.

 

The glass of wine in his hand settles the nerves slightly without even taking a sip. Having something to hold on to, fiddle with, it’s a small comfort.

 

Is he just supposed to bring this up? Nicklas knows why Ivan’s here, obviously, but he didn’t expect there to be wine. This wasn’t like a date or anything or-

 

“Take a sip and breathe, Ivan. We’re just going to relax for a while. I can smell it on you, but you don’t need to be anxious.”

 

He has a kind smile for an older vampire, not the predatory one that can come with age. Not like his maker. Leaving him in this situation, having to figure this all out on his own and-

 

Ivan clears his throat. He doesn’t need to be thinking about this right now. “Nicklas, I jus-”

 

“Please, not so formal. Nicky is fine.”

 

Nicky. Okay, he can do that. “I hope this favor wasn’t asking too much.”

 

“Not at all.” He takes a sip and the legs of the wine still on the sides of the glass make Ivan think about blood and his own hunger. “Alex has meetings all weekend, anyway.”

 

Ivan tries not to visibly startle when Nicky moves to sit closer to him on the couch. He could touch if he wanted to now, but Nicky still keeps to himself aside from his eyes on Ivan.

 

“Claude told me to be careful with you. He hasn’t been protective of anyone like this since Danny.” His expression softens again, that gentle smile returning. “You must be special.”

 

If Ivan had eaten in the past week, his face would be flushed. As it stands, he just feels the anxious burning in his chest but with no heat on his cheeks. A large swallow of wine doesn’t do much to ease it but it buys him enough time that he doesn’t need to respond.

 

“Have you fed from another vampire before? Your maker?”

 

He shakes his head. “My maker… didn’t see a reason to stick around. I was on a blood bag only diet until-” Nicky doesn’t need the details of how he fell into bed with Claude that one night. “I’ve only fed from Claude since.”

 

“You have a lot to learn,” Nicky finally says softly. He leans over, just enough to brush a finger along Ivan’s cool cheek, right where his blush would be if his body could manage it. “Let’s take care of this, first. You need to eat a proper meal. The other things will follow.” 

 

Despite the tart aftertaste of wine in his mouth, Ivan’s body reacts to the sense memory of Claude’s blood - warm, fresh, satisfying - and his fangs drop. He covers his mouth with one hand, embarrassed at his lack of self control, more so when he tries to swallow the saliva building in his mouth only to feel the sharp prick of fangs in his own lip. The stale scent of his own, under-fed blood reaches his nose. Across from him, Nicky takes a slow breath, obviously catching the smell of it himself. 

 

“Come here.” Nicky settles back against the couch, opening his arms in an invitation for Ivan to move closer, but he feels frozen, torn between desperately hungry and terrified at the idea of being so intimately close to the older vamp and feeding from his throat.

 

“Ivan.” Nicky is watching him closely, his expression curious but calm. “You can feed from my wrist if that’s easier.” 

 

“Can we? Please?” 

 

“Of course.” Rolling up his shirt sleeve, Nicky moves back toward Ivan on the couch. He offers his arm, letting Ivan wrap his fingers around it to draw him closer. Just as Ivan is gathering the courage to bite, Nicky suddenly says, “Wait. Don’t just bite.” 

 

Ivan recoils, letting Nicky’s arm go and leaning back. Nicky just catches his hand, keeping him from pulling away entirely. “Sorry.” 

 

“No, it’s alright. I didn’t mean to startle you. Lick first. There’s a compound in our saliva that helps with the pain.” 

 

Carefully, Ivan takes Nicky’s arm again, feeling a bit silly as he laps at the place just over the veins in Nicky’s wrist. After a few moments, Nicky murmurs, “There, that’s good. Go ahead.” 

 

With a deep breath, Ivan bites down. The flow of blood into his mouth is different, this time. Where Claude had been salty and rich, Nicky is heady, a burst of heat that hits Ivan’s system quickly and makes his head spin. Vaguely, he hears Nicky crooning at him in accented Russian, nonsensical phrases that are soothing nonetheless. 

 

Eventually, Nicky brushes his cheek. “That’s enough, Ivan.” 

 

Ivan does his best to ease his fangs out, licking again at the bite to start the healing process and cleaning the blood away. Nicky smiles at him approvingly, letting Ivan slump back against the couch. His head is still spinning, body hot in a way it’s rarely been since he was first bitten. 

 

“It’s different,” he manages to mumble, closing his eyes against the motion of the room around him. 

 

“It is. I’m older than you. Much older. And I let you take more than one normally would in a single feeding. You needed it,” Nicky goes on, forestalling the protest already on Ivan’s lips, “and I’ll be fine. You’ll never be able to take that much from a human, but you’ll learn the limits in time.” 

 

Nicky lets him rest, and Ivan’s grateful for it. He can feel the previously-absent flush burning hot in his cheeks, and - to his mortification - arousal pooling low in his belly. It won’t be easy to hide an erection, not when they’re close like this, and definitely not in the pants he’s wearing, but Ivan can’t quite will it away. It presses insistently against his zipper, and Ivan gets dragged down by a wave of want. The longer he waits, the worse it gets until his cock is throbbing, wetness soaking into the fabric of his boxers. 

 

Opening his eyes, Ivan whines when his body pulses as he meets Nicky’s eyes. “Please?” 

 

“Not this time, Vanya,” Nicky says gently, the nickname thicker in his mouth but soothing all the same in its familiarity. “It’s the blood. Maybe next time, once we’ve talked about it.” 

 

Ivan whines again, the sound caught in his throat. He reaches out across the couch, needing some kind of contact. He wants - he wants Nicky to take him, or Claude, he needs  _ something _ . He clings when Nicky shifts closer, allowing Ivan to curl into him. 

 

Slowly but surely, the worst of the ache fades, Ivan’s body easing back down to a warm, comfortable baseline. He starts to feel awkward, the drive to seek contact ebbing away as well. Nicky lets him go when Ivan sits back, moving back onto his own side of the couch. 

 

“Sorry,” Ivan says again, for lack of anything else. 

 

“Don’t be. You reacted like any fledgling would. Are you feeling better?” 

 

Saying he feels a little better would be a massive understatement, but he doesn’t want to tell Nicky the whole truth. That this is close to the best he’s felt in a long time. “Yes. Thank you.”

 

His wine glass finds his way back into his hand and the flavor bursts over his tongue when he takes a sip. There’s more depth than he was able to taste before feeding - the crispness of the grapes, bright and delicious. Ivan takes a gulp before the glass is slipped from his fingers again.

 

“Take it slow, Ivan. I knew you’d like it better now that you’d fed, though.”

 

Ivan smiles softly because the wine feels like it’s crawling through his veins along with Nicky’s blood. “What did you mean ‘reacted like any fledgling would’?”

 

“The blood of your elders is strong to you. Your maker should have been the one to feed you and help you to learn to handle your reactions,” Nicky explains slowly. “The lust, the desire for closeness - they’re all part of what should form your bond to your maker. And will be part of what will make up your bond when you choose a mate.” 

 

Nicky is quiet for a moment before going on. “You’re not my first fledgling. Or my only one, in all honesty.” 

 

It makes sense that he would have more than one. Nicky has kept his exact age a secret from the league, but it can’t be anything short of 500. “I didn’t know. I thought… that wanting like that might be inappropriate.”

 

“No. It isn’t wrong to feel like that.” Nicky falls quiet, but Ivan can see something flicker through his eyes. “Would you want to meet one of them? My fledglings. I can show you how the bond works between us.”

 

Part of Ivan is wary about dealing with yet another strange vampire; on the other hand, he’s tired of floundering, of being unsure what he should do next and what’s expected of him. Watching Nicky interact with another young vampire like him could help. “Would that be okay?” he asks softly. 

 

“I don’t think he’ll mind.” There’s a curl to Nicky’s lip as he talks, one that speaks of amusement even if it’s not quite a smile. 

 

Ivan’s cheeks flush and it’s more heat than he’s used to. “As long as he agrees.”

 

“We will call him tomorrow. For now, you should rest, let the blood do its work.” Nicky sits back and turns on a game for background noise, volume turned down low. Ivan doesn’t mean to fall asleep, but he does, at some point. He wakes to Claude shaking him gently. 

 

“Hey,” he says softly. “Let’s go, sleepyhead.” 

 

Claude bustles him out the door and to the car before Ivan can wake up fully; he dozes against the window, warm and sated. It’s nice to be able to cling when Ivan is finally in bed, Claude tucking him in against his side. 

 

“You’re okay?” Claude asks. Ivan manages a nod, burying his face against Claude’s neck. His scent is soothing and it’s easy to fall back asleep. 

 

Embarrassment finds a way to creep in when Ivan wakes the next morning. He’s hot and hard, moving against Claude before he can stop himself. The way he’d asked for Nicky to take him comes rushing back, and Ivan nearly makes it out of Claude’s arms before they go tight around him. 

 

“Hey. You don’t have to stop,” Claude murmurs. 

 

Ivan thinks Claude’s looking at him, giving him much more attention than normal this early in the morning, and Ivan wants to hide, crawl away under the covers. They need to talk about this, though. It’s only fair that Claude knows.

 

His grip loosens, giving Ivan the choice to wiggle away if he wants to. “What is it?”

 

He stays but can’t look at Claude. “Something happened. Last night… with Nicky.” If his heart could beat harder it would bruise his sternum and it still isn’t the worst feeling he’s currently going through. Ivan doesn’t want to hurt him.

 

Claude nods and says, “Okay.” Nothing follows.

 

There isn’t judgement, anger, frustration, nothing Ivan expected to see. Just patience and vague curiosity. It’s clear Claude isn’t going to ask. 

 

“He fed me,” Ivan nearly whispers. “He’s strong and it - his blood is, too.” Swallowing, Ivan runs the words over and over through his head, feeling he weight of Claude’s attention as he tries to force them out of his mouth until he blurts it awkwardly. “I got hard and I ah. I asked him to fuck me.” 

 

Ivan cringes away, bracing himself for rejection, for anger, but all that happens is Claude’s hands running up his back. “Can you look at me?” 

 

Sneaking a glance, Ivan finds that Claude’s expression has shifted into worry. “It’s okay. I know what feeding does. I was there, with Danny, a lot.” Claude’s quiet for a moment, waiting for Ivan to look up again before going on. “As long as he didn’t make you, then we’re good. You don’t have to tell me what you do with Bäckström. But I’m not going to be mad if anything happens.” 

 

“It wasn't like that. I promise.” Ivan closes the space between them, gently kissing Claude like he’s still fearing rejection. Claude’s hands slide down to Ivan’s hips, drawing him closer and Ivan’s glad to go, relaxing into the familiar hold. He’s still hard enough that pressing against Claude sends a thrill of pleasure up his spine, and Ivan shyly rocks his hips into Claude. He can feel it when the other man laughs against his mouth and he's half-tempted to give him a playful nip for making fun of him.

 

Ivan loses the moment when Claude shifts one hand to his ass, pulling a soft, startled moan from him because the simple friction against his cock is riling him up. Claude coaxes him into a steady rhythm, slotting his thigh in between Ivan’s to give him the constant pressure he needs.

 

With the heightened senses and Nicky’s strong blood still flowing through him, Ivan’s need to come turns quickly towards desperation. He’s gripping at Claude’s back, nails digging in through his t-shirt as he rocks against the firm muscle of his thigh. It’s going to be more than enough.

 

“C’mon, you’re right there,” Claude is whispering against his ear. “Just let go.”

 

Wetness slicks the inside of his boxers as he comes, thrusting through the mess and crying out. He’s never felt this hot during sex, but this also doesn’t feel like any orgasm he’s had before, either. Ivan’s shaking as his cock pulses out more come, clinging to Claude like a lifeline.

 

It takes well longer to stop than Ivan is used to and he’s left shivering and trying to tuck himself even closer to Claude. Being that needy and having an intense orgasm just from grinding against someone? It’s embarrassing.

 

“Jesus, Ivan. That blood is really something.” Claude kisses his temple and rubs his back gently. “You okay?”

 

Words won’t come when he opens his mouth, but he nods against Claude. 

 

He goes back to Nicky’s after dinner that night, the same nerves from the night before bubbling in his stomach. There were more lessons discussed, but Ivan doesn’t know what that entails. He’d taught him how to feed; what else was there?

 

Greetings come with a glass of wine again, which he is grateful for. He has to ask about the particular vintage, trying to store it in his memory for later; it seems like something Claude might enjoy, and nice wines aren’t exactly Ivan’s forte.

 

It isn’t long before Ivan’s senses clue him in to something else: there’s another young vampire in the house. Ivan can sense his presence, but Nicky keeps them in the kitchen for a while longer, letting the wine seep into Ivan’s bloodstream. This time, instead of plying him with more, he takes the glass from him once he’s had about half. There’s a brief moment where Ivan considers asking for it back, but Nicky has the lead, here, and he is doing his best to follow.

 

Ivan isn’t expecting the older vampire to gather him close, hugging gently around his lower back. “Thank you for coming back today. The trust means a lot.”

 

“Oh, I, um. You’re welcome.”

 

“My youngest, André, he’s come to help like I promised. He seemed excited to meet you.”

 

“So, he knows?” Ivan isn’t even really sure what he’s asking. Does André know he’s makerless? Does he know he hasn’t been properly nourished? It feels a little like failure, thinking about all the things he already knows he isn’t compared to André, nevermind whatever other information he might be missing.

 

Nicky kisses his cheek and his lips are chilled. “He doesn’t know anything other than your name. He admires your hockey. Are you ready to meet him?”

 

That hadn’t even crossed his mind and Ivan blushes, nodding. 

 

He’s ushered into the living room with a hand on the small of his back that leaves so he can take a seat next to a bright-eyed fledgling.

 

“Ivan, this is André. He was turned about six months ago.”

 

“Ivan Provorov,” Burakovsky says with a toothy smile, accent only a little thicker than Nicky’s. “It’s a pleasure.”

 

“Um, same. Nice to meet you.” What does he do now? Where does he sit? Does he shake André’s hand?

 

“You think so loud, Vanya.” Nicky jests, able to see some of the panic and nerves flitting through Ivan’s expression. “Come sit.” He doesn’t gesture to the empty cushion, but Ivan’s sure he means next to him.

 

André is snuggled up against Nicky’s side, Nicky’s arm around his back, hand resting on his waist. Every once in a while he will nuzzle against Nicky’s neck while they’re talking, letting the tip of his tongue brush over the pulse there. When he starts to get insistent, Nicky digs a finger into the soft flesh of his side and André yelps, pulling away. “You have to wait.”

 

“But, Papa-”

 

“You will wait until we’re ready. You knew you weren’t going to get fed right away. Have some patience.”

 

André huffs but settles back, keeping his mouth away from Nicky’s neck this time.

 

Ivan tries to keep his face blank, but the idea of being  _ commanded _ like that - especially by an older vampire - appeals to him as much as it frightens him.

 

“I plan to show you how André feeds from me. Being how young and high-energy he is-” Nicky breaks to kiss André’s temple and the fledgling smiles, his small fangs already peeking through. “-this usually includes sex. If you’re uncomfortable with that part, you only have to watch the feeding and then you’re welcome to either leave or come back downstairs until we’re finished. However, André isn’t-”

 

“I’m not shy,” he chimes in. “It’s fun to have someone watch.”

 

Ivan doesn’t think his face could possibly get redder.

 

“You don’t have to decide right now,” Nicky says. “You can leave at any point during.”

 

“Papa,” André whines snuggling closer still.

 

“Hush, little one.” Nicky tilts André’s chin up to give him a kiss, a soft peck to tide him over. “Soon.”

 

He isn’t sure, but Ivan thinks he wants to stay. He wants to see the dynamic at play here, even if that means a little awkwardness. Ivan almost gets a chance to respond, but Nicky beats him to it.

 

“Upstairs, both of you,” Nicky says, untangling himself from André who quickly hops to his feet. The hint of command directed at him sends a light shiver up Ivan’s neck. Their kind aren't capable of compulsion, but this is as close to it as they get. Ivan  _ wants  _ to obey, and he finds himself standing before he can really think it through.

 

What he doesn't expect is André taking hold of his hand and tugging him toward the staircase. And giggling - he doesn't expect that, either.

 

If this is Nicky's bedroom that André opens the door to and ushers him inside, Ivan's a bit surprised. He expected something more antiquated, holdovers from Nicky's younger years. The curtains closed tight are surprisingly modern in a darker shade of grey than the walls. Some throw pillows decorate a bed that's larger than a California King.

 

André guides Ivan toward it with a hand at the small of his back. “Sit here? You won't be in the way.” Ivan's likely imagining the implication of “unless you want to be” but it looks like it’s there in the playful smirk on André’s lips.

 

Again, Ivan isn’t sure quite what to do. Does he sit on the edge of the bed, out of their way? Does he lay down and get comfortable? All of it seems wrong so he sets himself up against the headboard after slipping his shoes off. He’s close enough to the edge of the bed that there’s a broad expanse left for Nicky and André to choose from.

 

André wastes no time, slipping out of his t-shirt and sprawling out on his back in the middle of the bed. It puts him near enough to Ivan that they could touch and André gives him a little wink before Nicky climbs on top of him, pulling his attention back to his maker.

 

They kiss in a way that doesn’t seem fitting with André’s demanding nature. It’s so slow and deep - the way Ivan loves kissing Claude before they go to sleep. Nicky keeps control, licking between André’s lips, pulling back when he wants to and keeping André pressed into the bed.

 

“You have to be good this time, André. Only take what I taught you, not how much I usually allow. You’re still allowed everything else.” It’s quiet, like Nicky’s asking him to keep a secret.

 

André nods quickly and places a soft peck to the side of Nicky’s neck where Ivan can see his pulse thudding.

 

“If you move a little, you’ll be able to see where he bites,” Nicky addresses Ivan without turning to him, focus entirely on André. “He likes the weight on top of him, so we often feed like this, with him taking from my neck.”

 

He’s careful not to jostle them too much when he scoots to an angle where he can see the length of Nicky’s neck and won’t be blocked when André leans in.

 

It’s clear he’s waiting for Nicky’s say-so. André’s shifting just a little under the weight of Nicky, looking like he wants to push forward, to get his mouth on him. Nicky spares Ivan a quick glance, giving him a brief curl of lips before dipping to kiss André one more time. 

 

“Go ahead, André,” he murmurs once they’ve broken apart, moving enough that he’s not obstructing Ivan’s view. 

 

André tilts his head, lapping at Nicky’s throat with enthusiastic little licks. There’s a moment just before he bites that Ivan can feel them all take a collective breath, then Nicky’s eyes are fluttering shut as André picks his spot and bites down. Ivan finds himself counting André’s swallows, if only to try to keep from running. André’s rolling his hips up into Nicky, making soft, needy sounds as he feeds. His hands wander Nicky’s skin, sliding up beneath his shirt as he clutches at his back. 

 

“ _ André, _ ” Nicky gasps. It’s less commanding than Ivan would expect, but André slows the insistent press of his hips and - oh. Two swallows more and André is lapping the bite closed. He’s still clinging to Nicky, making desperate little sounds as he tries to pull the older vampire to him. Nicky’s pupils are wide and dark when he looks up at Ivan, but his expression is a close enough approximation to his normal calm that Ivan shoves down the spike of anxiety in his chest. 

 

Without a word, Nicky turns his attention back to André, ignoring his fledgling’s protests to sit up enough to strip out of his shirt before letting André reel him back in. Their bodies are pressed flush, André taking the contact as permission to continue grinding up against Nicky.

 

If Ivan was braver - maybe blood drunk like he was last night and André is now - he’d reach out and touch. For now, he watches with his fists clenched in the sheets to help keep himself grounded.  

 

“Shh, baby, shh,” Nicky tries to soothe those noises with ones of his own and kisses, but it only makes André need more. That was the feeling Ivan had last night. The longer he sat next to Nicky, the harder and hotter he had felt and André is now panting with it.

 

“In me, get in me,” André says between gasping kisses, frantically trying to push his sweatpants down with one hand while scrabbling to keep hold of Nicky with the other.

 

Nicky stops his hand, holding it pressed to the bed - André’s a mess. Chest heaving, ass half exposed, pinned down and teeth bared. A hint of that desperation is bleeding into Ivan and maybe his own cock is starting to take interest, though he’s choosing to ignore it.   


  
"I know, you need it, but soon. I have to get you ready, okay?"

  
  
"Did it already. Before." He's panting and his last-ditch "please" barely comes out.

  
  
Without the pressure of Nicky's hands on him, André gets the last piece of clothing off and is surprisingly patient as Nicky gets rid of his own. He's grabbing and reaching, needing to be touched, but he gives Nicky enough room and time.

  
  
Seeing Nicky naked, well... Ivan's own lust flares up. Nicky's hard and even from his separate vantage point, Ivan can see that the head is a little slick from where he clearly wants this too.

  
  
André is crying out, nails digging into Nicky's shoulders when he thrusts in. Ivan doesn't mean to but reaches down to grip his length where it has become insistent against his zipper. Just a quick squeeze, enough for some relief.

  
  
All the noises André makes as Nicky fucks into him sharp and quick are going straight to Ivan's cock. His face must be bright red because he's warm with yesterday's feeding and surprised to find he's a little bit jealous. Nicky knows exactly what André likes, how to make him feel it deep in his core. Ivan would never say he isn't happy with Claude, but the connection seems… it’s missing from his life and he feels cheated.

 

Ivan’s attention is brought back when André reaches out for him, grabbing at the sheets and then brushing his leg. He’s whimpering, blissed out and fangs still bared, and Ivan takes his hand. His grip is tight and Ivan can feel him trembling, already on the verge of coming and trying desperately to hold off.

 

He thought it would take a little longer for André to get there, but his head is thrown back with eyes shut tight as he shakes through his orgasm. Nicky's mumbling soft words in his ear that don't fit with how hard he's still fucking him.

 

Panting, André releases Ivan’s hand to push at Nicky's chest, trying to get him to back off. Nicky smirks fondly down at him but pulls out, letting André go boneless on the bed.

 

“Feel better?” André nods but doesn't speak. “You were good today. Let's clean you up so you can sleep.”

 

Ivan’s voice croaks when he tries to speak. “I'll, uh, get him a washcloth.” Standing and walking makes him painfully aware just how hard he got watching them. Would this even go down before he got back to Claude?

 

Returning from the en suite, Nicky takes the damp cloth and wipes up the mess coating André’s stomach, his cock, and down between his legs. He's thorough and attentive; Ivan can’t help thinking he's just like Claude in that regard. With the washcloth placed over on the nightstand, Nicky gives André a couple forceful nudges until he’s alert enough to scoot over to the vacant side of the bed and curl up underneath the covers.

 

And then Nicky’s attention is back on him and Ivan feels like maybe he should run.

 

“Is there anything you want?” It’s obvious that Nicky sees the bulge in his pants. 

 

His brow furrows and Ivan doesn’t know what to say. The idea of getting fucked by a vampire is still clinging in his mind. He wants to know what it’s like, but not with André still in Nicky’s bed. That’s too much.

 

“Vanya, come lay with me. Let’s just talk a little.”

 

It’s odd crawling under the covers with a naked and still-hard vampire when Ivan’s fully dressed, but it doesn’t seem to phase Nicky, who just pulls him close with an arm over his waist. He can’t see André from here, but the soft snores let Ivan know he’s still there. 

 

Nicky’s fingers brush over the small of Ivan’s back where his shirt rode up to expose the skin. He shivers and tries not to whine with the way his cock jumps at the prospect of getting attention.

 

"I could feel how hard you were staring. Were you comfortable with this?"

  
  
It's a little bit of a surprise, but. "Yes, ah. André showed me what it could be like. With your maker."

  
  
Lips brush over Ivan's pulse in his throat and the closeness makes him aware of Nicky's cock resting against his, probably leaving a stain of lube and precome against his pants. It shouldn't be a turn-on, but Ivan has to restrain himself from grinding against Nicky.

  
  
"And what's your opinion on that?" Nicky nips at Ivan's neck and, okay, he whimpers then.

  
  
"That it can be intense. Maybe feels better because of the connection between maker and fledgling?"

  
  
Nicky chuckles and pulls back to look him in the eye. "That and years of extra experience."

  
  
Ivan blushes but he can’t stop himself from imagining it.

  
  
"Would you like to feel that, too?" 

  
  
There's enough space between them for Ivan to think, Nicky keeping a little distance. He's offering but not persuading and that eases some of the worry.

  
  
"With André here..." Ivan shakes his head. "He needs you and I wouldn't want to take you away from him, but, ah." When did his throat get so dry? "I'd like to."

  
  
Nicky leans in and kisses him and its unexpected but not unwelcome. The gentleness is similar to Claude and the comfort that comes from their post-coital kisses.

  
  
What's also unexpected is Nicky's hand reaching between them to rub the length of Ivan through his pants. "Would you at least let me take care of this for you? I'll keep you right here." He tugs Ivan to snuggle into his chest. "Just to get you some relief. It's just us."

  
  
He can't see André from here. Only the comfort of Nicky's chest where he can hide himself away. His erection isn't going away and Claude said he could do things with Nicky if he wanted to.

  
  
"Okay?" It isn't supposed to come out as a question, so he clears his throat. "Please?"

  
  
"Of course. Open your pants for me."

  
  
Ivan knows it's only because of the angle that Nicky needs help, but the command burns in Ivan's gut. Unzipping his pants and damn near ripping open the button takes no time; the release of pressure where he was trapped feels nice.

  
  
It's nicer still when Nicky kisses his temple and slips his hand into the front of Ivan's boxers. He doesn't pull him out, just strokes his cock from head to root inside his underwear. A moan wants out but Ivan sets his teeth into his lip. This only stays between the two of them if he keeps quiet.

  
  
"Little eager?" Nicky speaks low.

  
  
His fist is tight and Ivan bucks into it, needing more of the friction and he almost cries out when Nicky's thumb rubs over the head and through his slit. He doesn't trust himself to answer and he doesn't think Nicky is really looking for one, anyway.

  
  
It feels just like this morning in Claude's bed. Anything touching him feels stronger than when Ivan isn't well fed. Pleasure builds quick in his gut and he's torn between wanting to come and wanting to feel this good for longer.

  
  
The little whines sneak out of him as Nicky picks up the pace. "Pretty wet for me, Vanya. One day I want to taste you. Would you sit still enough for me to swallow your cock?"

  
  
Not coming isn't an option with Nicky dirty talking quietly into his ear. Ivan chokes on a moan as his cock kicks out pulses of come. It's warm and Nicky strokes it over his length until Ivan twitches away from him, finally empty.

  
  
Nicky leans over to get the washcloth, using the clean side to wipe off his own hand. He’s pulling Ivan close again, making him all too aware of the mess inside his boxers, just as much as that morning with Claude. A potential downside of being well fed.

  
  
"Thank you for letting me help you. Do you feel better?"

  
  
"Yeah. Thanks." Words are hard when his brain feels like it just short-circuited its way through an orgasm.

  
"Stay, will you? I understand if you'd rather go back to Claude tonight, but you can stay. Guest room is right next door or you can stay here with us."

  
  
Ivan shakes his head and he realizes it isn't quite answer enough. "Guest room. Too tired." Close enough. Nicky gets the point.

  
  
He hums and rubs Ivan's back. "Stay until you're ready. No hurry."   


 

* * *

 

At some point Ivan stumbles to the guest room, pulls off his dirty clothes, and crawls into bed. He was a little too out of it with almost sleep to remember it entirely, but he isn't alarmed when he starts waking up and the bed feels different.

  
  
It's dipping beside him now, a draft being let in as the covers lift and a body crawls in beside him.

  
  
"Mm, Nicky?"

  
  
"Yes, Vanya?" Breath ghosts warm over his neck with little kisses down his throat and over his collarbone.

 

“Just checking.” Getting his eyes to open is harder than he thought, sleep still dragging at him, but Ivan manages after a few minutes. “Where's André?”

 

“Christian came and picked him up a little bit ago. Advice? Don’t give the rookies keys to your house.”

 

Ivan stretches and Nicky takes the opportunity to fit himself closer to Ivan's side. “I have another short lesson for you this morning. Are you ready?”

 

He’s not entirely alert but it's the best he can manage. Ivan nods and focuses on Nicky's wrist when he brings it up to Ivan's mouth.

 

“Self control. Taking only ten pulls during a feeding tests it some, but you'll at least start to feel sated then. Right now I want you to only take three.”

 

He’s still feeling fine from being fed two nights ago, but he isn’t going to argue a little pick-me-up. Nicky’s blood would be addicting if he was allowed to have it all the time.

 

Ivan’s gentle. Something about his sleep-addled brain makes him need to be careful with Nicky. He kisses his wrist softly before licking over it and sinking his teeth in.

 

The first pull has his blood flooding Ivan’s mouth. The second has it sliding down into his stomach. The third spreads that heat all through his body, and now he understands. Ivan doesn’t want to stop feeding, not when it gives him that heady rush. He doesn’t take another swallow and Nicky hasn’t said anything to him yet, so Ivan lays there with his fangs still latched on for a moment.

 

Eventually, he withdraws and closes the wound, keeping hold on Nicky so his arm is draped across his chest.

 

“More difficult than you thought, hm?”

 

He nods and grips tighter to Nicky’s wrist. The want Ivan felt the first time he drank from him is crawling back over him. It isn’t as severe, but it’s present. He’d been blood drunk and needing, lacking a lot of control. Now, it is a gentle burning underneath his skin - enough to make him hard and pull at Nicky to be closer.

 

“Ivan?” Nicky questions, shifting so he’s leaned up on one elbow. 

 

“I want to feel it. Please?” The scant handful of words is all Ivan can muster, but it must be enough for Nicky. He offers a small, fanged smile before leaning in to capture Ivan’s mouth. He’s warm and vaguely minty, which clashes unpleasantly for a moment with the heavy flavor of blood still lingering in Ivan’s mouth. It fades away as they kiss, lost beneath the want that’s welling up between them. Quickly - too quickly - the contact turns heated, and Ivan finds himself pinned beneath Nicky’s hands, feeling trapped and trying to squirm away. 

 

“Sorry. I’m used to André being so demanding,” Nicky murmurs, giving Ivan a more gentle kiss, shifting his grip to the sheets instead of Ivan’s shoulders and moving more of his weight back onto his knees. It gives Ivan enough room to breathe and relax. 

 

Nicky’s soft kisses and sure hands work Ivan back up, stoking the heat in his belly until he’s clutching at Nicky in want in an echo of André’s desperation. With clever fingers, Nicky stretches Ivan open, holding him in place with one hand planted in the middle of his chest, sharp eyes watching him gasp and making his heart pound with their intensity. 

 

At the start, it’s more deliberate than the way he’d fucked André, tucking Ivan in close before pressing inside, those same eyes flicking across his face as though waiting for signs of distress. The pace of his hips picks up, though, finding just the right angle to make Ivan cry out into the quiet of the house with particularly pointed thrusts. Ivan’s lost in it, but not lost from Nicky; even as Nicky spins him out on blood-high and pleasure-pain, he holds Ivan to him and kisses the more whimpery sounds from his lips. 

 

“I’ve got you, Vanya,” Nicky murmurs, pressing a kiss to the corner of Ivan’s mouth just as he reaches between them to stroke Ivan’s cock. His fangs have started to drop ever so slightly, sharp points showing between his parted lips and Ivan finds himself staring at them as his nearing orgasm winds him up tight. He tosses his head back when he finally comes, the ghost of teeth in his neck warring with the delicate pressure of Nicky’s lips against his throat. Ivan chokes a little on his own breath as Nicky’s continued fucking quickly drives him into overstimulation, but he’s determined to hold on. Ignoring the pricking of tears in his eyes, Ivan bites his lip and clenches down on the cock inside him. He can practically feel Nicky curse and the throb of his cock when he comes; he readily accepts Nicky’s weight on top of him when he slumps briefly, both of them panting. 

 

It’s with care that Nicky eases out, petting at Ivan’s shaky thighs. They’re sticky, but Ivan doesn’t mind. He burrows as close to Nicky as he can get as Nicky settles beside him, wrapping a strong arm around Ivan’s shoulders. Kissing Ivan’s temple, Nicky nuzzles at his sweaty hair, sending a wave of his own scent over Ivan’s skin. 

 

“How are you feeling?” 

 

“Good,” Ivan admits softly. It was different than when he’s with Claude; not better, per se, but different. “You think, ah. Maybe, if I mated-” 

 

“It would be similar. Every bond is unique; I’m not your maker, so it would have felt different with him than it does me, and it will be different yet with whoever you choose to mate with. The strength of it will depend on how deep your connection runs.” 

 

Giving a little nod, Ivan lets Nicky’s words sink in. He doesn’t have to miss out on this, if he chooses someone else. He doesn’t have to go back to his maker to rid himself of the loneliness and disconnect he’s been living with so far, and that’s a relief. 

 

Nicky lets him be for a while, stroking slow circles over Ivan’s skin. Only his phone ringing breaks the silence, and the blast of techno nearly startles Ivan upright. He catches Nicky’s eyeroll as he stretches out to snag his phone, swiping the call open. 

 

Alex Ovechkin is loud; Ivan’s known this, but it’s different hearing his voice blaring from the speaker. He can feel Nicky sigh, but there’s a smile teasing at the corners of his lips as he listens to the exuberant rambling coming from the other end of the call. 

 

“Some of us are still in bed, you know,” Nicky quips, a true smile breaking out as another outburst from Ovechkin follows. “Provorov. Yes, remem- no, absolutely not. You can talk to Giroux, but I’m - hold on.” Shooting Ivan a quick glance, Nicky is quiet for a moment before he thumbs the mute button on the call. “He wants to talk to you. You don’t have to say yes. I know he’s a lot.” 

 

With shaky fingers, Ivan reaches for the phone, unmuting the call and putting it to his ear. Ovechkin is speaking before he finishes saying hello. 

 

“Ivan! You taking care of my Nicky?” 

 

“Shut up, Alex,” Nicky grouses, saving Ivan from having to say anything as Ovechkin bursts out laughing. 

 

“Cranky. Give him coffee, he’ll be happy. Tell me, though, you feel better? Nicky says you went hungry for a long time.” 

 

“I’m - yeah. I’m doing better. He’s helping me.” 

 

“Good. Nicky’s a good teacher. Pay attention. Tell him I’ll be over soon as he’s free.” 

 

The call ends, Ovechkin hanging up as abruptly as he called. Obediently, Ivan delivers the message given him and Nicky rolls his eyes yet again. 

 

“He likes to pretend he doesn’t worry.” 

 

“About me?” Ivan asks, wondering if maybe Ovechkin really sees him as a threat but Nicky is already shaking his head. 

 

“About me. He understands about you; we’ve talked about it already, but will he ask me to my face if I’m alright?” The last trickles out into a mumble, and something in Nicky’s tone makes everything click into place in Ivan’s head. 

 

“He’s your mate.” 

 

Nicky blinks, turning his head to look at Ivan with that calculating gaze. “Yes. He is. I didn’t expect, well. That you’d figure it out so quickly.”

 

Ivan shrugs, dropping his eyes to look at the bed. 

 

“Does that bother you?” Nicky asks carefully. 

 

“No,” Ivan blurts, blushing as soon as the word is out of his mouth. “I just don’t want to, um.” 

 

Rolling over, Nicky rests a hand on Ivan’s chest. “Alex knows. He’s okay with it. It’s part of who we are as vampires, and he understands. Just like Claude does. You’re not causing any trouble. If it would help, I’m sure Alex would be more than happy to talk to you.” 

 

The last is said with a twitch of a smile and Ivan can practically feel the mortification crawling across his face as he stutters out, “No, that’s okay.” 

 

“Good. I need coffee. You’re welcome to use the shower or anything else you’d like before Claude comes to pick you up.” 

 

Nicky rolls out of bed, then, the ghost of the pressure of his fingers lingering on Ivan’s chest. He stops just long enough to pull on shorts and a tee shirt, running his hands through the tangle of blond curls to sweep them back and behind his ears. Shifting a little, Ivan wrinkles his nose at the tacky come on his stomach and the wet, sticky feeling around his hole. It’s more than enough motivation to get him up and moving, taking Nicky up on his offer to use the shower. 

 

It feels a little risque, padding down the hall of Nicklas Bӓckström’s house with only a towel around his waist, but he makes it to the guest room without incident. There’s a notification flashing on his phone, a text from Claude checking in and asking him to let him know when Ivan is ready. 

 

Downstairs, Nicky has made good on his word about coffee, and is scrolling through his phone as he drinks. “There’s food if you’re hungry,” he offers, but - for once - Ivan’s belly isn’t gnawing at him. He still pours himself a cup of coffee, needing something to do with his hands. He’s not sure how to phrase what he needs to ask without sounding rude.

 

“Don’t worry so much, Vanya,” Nicky murmurs. “Sit, relax. Do you have any other questions for now?” 

 

“I don’t know what to ask,” Ivan says truthfully, after a moment.  

 

“That’s alright. I’m going to send you some information; read through it, and let me know if there’s anything I can help with. You’ve talked to Claude?” 

 

“Not yet. He said to text him when I was ready. I didn’t know if, um. We had more to do or not.” 

 

If Nicky finds humor in Ivan’s phrasing, he doesn’t show it, for which Ivan is grateful. “I think we’ve covered plenty for now. We can always arrange to meet in the future, and you can call or text me when you need to.” 

 

Ivan tries to hide his relief when Claude arrives. Nicky walks him to the door, giving him a quick shoulder pat before sending him on his way. 

 

“You look good,” Claude comments, reaching over to give Ivan’s hand a quick squeeze as he waits to make the turn out of Nicky’s neighborhood. It’s genuine, warmth and relief all balled up in one. 

 

“Thank you. For doing this. I didn’t - I wasn’t sure what to do.” 

 

“That’s what I’m here for. You’ll have to show me what you learned when we get home, eh?” Claude smirks a little, making Ivan’s face burn. 

 

“Shut up,” he manages, ducking his head and unlocking his phone. He has a few unanswered messages to take care of and the promised email from Nicky is already waiting for him. Opening the first attachment, Ivan settles against the car door and starts to read.

 

* * *

 

The sluggish feeling crawls its way back into Ivan’s veins slowly over the next three weeks. With the remnants of Nicky’s much stronger blood in addition to the little he’s taken from Claude, he’s felt full longer. Ivan still isn’t the first one to notice he’s hungry, used to ignoring his own needs.

 

Travis is clean, fresh from the showers and Ivan ducks his head when he sits in the stall beside his.

 

“Make sure you eat soon.”

 

“I’m not…” He is, though. The aching in his stomach is returning and he will need to feed. Travis must have noticed him paling again. “Thank you for reminding me.”

 

“Of course.” Travis smiles softly and towel dries his hair. It isn’t right or fair that he looks so good to Ivan when he’s hungry. “You know I’d feed you if you wanted.”

 

That thought in and of itself is enough to make Ivan’s fangs start to drop. He closes his eyes, breathing slow and trying to coax them back. Travis is still watching him when Ivan looks back up, concern furrowing his brow, now. “Really. It’s a standing offer. Think about it, okay?” 

 

Swallowing back the saliva building in his mouth, Ivan manages a fairly normal, “Okay,” before fleeing to take his own shower. Once clean and dressed, he slips out the door before any of the others can approach him as well; Ivan’s not sure who else is familiar with his hunger signs, but he’s not ready to talk about it with them - not yet. 

 

He’s really not surprised to find Travis waiting for him by his car. 

 

“I thought I’d try one more time. We leave in a few days for the road trip, now’s as good a time as any.” 

 

“Travis . . .” Ivan’s not sure how to approach this; he wishes Claude were here, or Nicky, someone to explain with the words he can’t find. He’s aware that Travis is watching him and looks on the brink of speaking again, so he swallows hard and tries. “It’s, ah. Complicated. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” 

 

“It’s just blood, right? I’ll be okay.” Travis tries to play it off with a smile, but Ivan feels his throat go tight. 

 

“Maybe - I should call Claude.” He fumbles for his phone, knowing he has Claude on speed dial if he can just get the thing out of his pocket. Whether he talks to Travis himself or just tells Ivan what to say, it'll be better than anything he can manage.

  
  
Patience was never Travis's strong suit, but he does well, waiting until Ivan's call connects.

  
  
"Claude? Can you talk to Travis?" Giving him time to answer or more of an explanation would have been better. Instead, he immediately hands the phone to Travis and turns away. Ivan's brain is short-circuiting at just being in this situation.

  
  
Travis steps away so Ivan can only hear faint bits of the call. Blocking out their conversation until it's over seems to settle alright with his anxiety.

  
  
It's a short call and Travis is back beside him, handing his phone over. "Said to tell you everything's good if you want it. He wants us over at his place, though."

  
  
Nodding is a good enough answer for them both and Travis leads them to his car. Ivan isn't sure what all Travis knows but he'd rather ask Claude when they get there. Talking to Claude isn't as nerve wracking as it used to be.

  
  
Travis seems relaxed on the drive over while Ivan nervously shifts in his seat. It's just a meal coming from a friend. That's all.

  
  
He loses almost the entire ride to his thoughts, pulling into Claude's driveway earlier than he was prepared for. Waiting for Travis to follow isn't a priority, either. He's been to Claude's place, he knows his way inside.

  
  
Claude is in the kitchen pulling a beer out of the fridge when Ivan finds him.

  
  
"C'mere," he says setting the bottle down and letting Ivan cling to him. Without asking or nudging, Claude tilts his head so Ivan can bury his face against his neck. His scent is calming - Nicky's ended up being, too - allowing Ivan's racing heart to start settling out.

 

"What did you tell him?"

  
  
"I told him I think you feeding from him is a good idea. Having you comfortable with a few of your teammates could come in handy if I'm not there to take care of you."

  
  
It's practical and Ivan can't deny that. "But what about, ah..." If he could hide further into Claude, he would. Thankfully, Claude knows exactly what he’s concerned about.

  
  
"I mentioned how blood affects you, physically. He doesn't mind helping you that way, either. If you want him to, that's okay by me."

  
  
Ivan immediately shakes his head. "You. Just you. For now."

  
  
"Okay, just me." Claude's hands smooth down his back, rubbing gently until he's ready to pull back. Travis is leaning against the island, looking at them calmly with no pressure, no expectations. His genuine desire to help is why Ivan thinks he's okay with feeding from someone else.

  
  
"Living room?" Claude asks Ivan and leans down for a quick kiss once he nods.

  
  
Travis looks a little lost when Claude settles across from Ivan, sitting on the coffee table instead of beside him.

  
  
"Here?" Ivan gives a nervous smile but holds out his hand so Travis will come and sit beside him. "I'm just going to feed from your wrist, if that's okay?"

  
  
"Whatever you need,” Travis says, already rolling up his sleeve to offer his arm.

 

“It won’t hurt.” 

 

“I know. Claude told me.” He shoots Ivan an encouraging smile, waiting with more patience than Ivan is used to.

  
  
"And-" His face would be red if his nourishment weren't currently the problem. "Afterwards, Claude will take care of me."

  
  
Travis nods and places his hand and wrist in Ivan's lap, turning over control and trusting Ivan to be careful with him. Claude's hand is on his knee and the back and forth stroke of his thumb through Ivan's dress pants comforts him enough to take Travis's hand, drawing his inner wrist to his lips.

 

His fangs drop at the first whiff of sweet blood pumping through Travis's veins. Saliva pools under his tongue and Ivan takes advantage, licking soft stripes to numb him to the sting of the bite. Ivan wants to look at Travis, make sure he's okay, but he's embarrassed to be seen this obviously hungry. Would the fangs scare him? Travis hasn't talked about feeding other vampires before, but he seems confident enough that Ivan has to trust that things will work out. 

 

Travis tenses briefly when Ivan bites down, but there’s no gasp of pain and he quickly relaxes. Claude keeps his hand on Ivan’s knee, and the steady rhythm of his touch blends with the pulse of Travis blood until Ivan’s body is all but throbbing with sensation. He manages to keep count of his swallows, gently pulling his fangs free of Travis’s wrist and lapping the bite shut. 

 

He looks up to meet Travis’ eyes, finding that same, reassuring smile on his friend’s face. Travis is a touch paler, but looks fine otherwise. He reaches out to touch Ivan’s now blood-warm cheek, brushing along it gently, and Ivan finds himself leaning forward, chasing the touch. He just manages to brush their mouths together before a hand lands on his chest, gently nudging him back. 

 

“Ivan,” Travis says softly. “Claude’s waiting for you, remember?” 

 

He would be embarrassed if he didn’t  _ need _ , but Ivan just turns back to Claude, letting himself be drawn in to strong arms. Despite being fed, Claude’s scent is still alluring and calming, so Ivan presses close and buries his face against Claude’s neck. Vaguely, he’s aware of Travis saying his goodbyes and the door shutting in the distance, but the ache in him is steadily drowning out everything else. Ivan paws at Claude’s clothes, only to be left whining when Claude catches his wrists and stills him. 

 

“Easy. I’ve got you.” Using his hold on Ivan’s wrists, Claude pushes him down on the couch, nudging his legs apart so he can fit between them. Once he’s caught on, Ivan lets Claude move him the way he wants, eagerly spreading his legs and allowing his arms to be pinned up above his head. 

 

Claude switches Ivan’s wrists to one hand, using his free one to unzip his jeans and gently free Ivan’s cock from his boxers. It feels good, but it’s not what Ivan wants; he wants Claude, and he has to pull himself together enough to say it. “Please, I need-” 

 

Stroking him a few more times, Claude watches with dark eyes as Ivan squirms in his hold. “You want me to fuck you? That it?” 

 

Embarrassed by how desperate he feels, no matter how many times they’ve done this, Ivan nods and fights to keep eye contact with Claude. His face is hot, but Claude smiles at him, dipping down for a kiss. He strips them out of their clothes, manhandling Ivan in a way that reminds him so much of Nicky that it makes his cock throb. He’s not ready for it when Claude turns him around toward the back of the couch, bending Ivan over it. Immediately, panic clenches in his chest, flashes of his maker running through his mind and he’s struggling to get away before he can help himself. 

 

“Ivan, hey,  _ hey _ .” Claude just manages to catch him before he topples off the couch, letting Ivan crawl away and turn around. “What’s wrong?” 

 

“My maker he - I don’t - I need to see you,” he manages, closing his eyes. “Sorry.” 

 

“No, hey. It’s okay.” Gingerly, Claude moves to sit by him, letting Ivan lean into his chest before wrapping his arms around him. “We don’t have to.” 

 

Ivan still wants though, body thrumming with it despite his fear. He kisses Claude’s jaw, breathing in his scent. “I want to,” he admits, softly. 

 

Pulling him close, Claude coaxes Ivan into his lap. They’ve never done it this way before; normally, Ivan’s too desperate to get fucked to want to experiment, but he appreciates the control Claude is giving him. One of Claude’s hands slips behind him, petting over Ivan’s hole. His fingers are dry, but the friction is just enough to make Ivan shudder. He draws away, and there’s a click before Claude’s fingers return, slick and cool. 

 

“How -” 

 

“I didn’t think we’d get much further than the couch.” There’s a little bit of smirk in Claude’s voice, but Ivan wants too much to address it and Claude’s already pressing inside him. He’s merciless with his prep, fucking his fingers up into Ivan. Ivan gasps and clings to Claude’s shoulders as he rolls his hips, practically riding Claude’s hand until Claude draws his fingers out. Fisting his own cock, Claude guides Ivan down, grip tight on one hip until Ivan’s ass meets the top of his thighs. 

 

“Fuck,” Ivan breathes out shakily. He feels so split open, Claude thick inside him and broad thighs holding his legs open wide. It’s not easy to get leverage to move like this, but he braces himself on Claude and the couch, trying to move enough to get even a little friction. Strong hands slide back to grip his ass and thighs, helping to lift him up and guiding him into a rolling motion. One of Claude’s fingers slips between his cheeks, rubbing right where he’s stretched tight around Claude’s cock and Ivan chokes on his own breath when the tip of that finger edges inside. “ _ Claude _ .” 

 

“God, you’re so tight,” Claude grits out, voice low. He bites at the tender skin of Ivan’s throat, the sharp sting sending a throb through Ivan’s body. “Yeah? Could feel that, the way you clenched.” Without prompting, Claude bites him again, just hard enough to hurt; it won’t leave a mark tomorrow, but the edge of it sends a shivery thrill straight to Ivan’s cock. “Did he bite you, Ivan? Do you think about it, Nicky’s fangs in your skin while you come?” 

 

Scrabbling at Claude’s shoulders, Ivan can’t swallow back the whine he makes when he comes. Gravity forces him down onto Claude’s cock, pushes the intruding finger deep enough to ache. Ivan trembles and wraps his arms around Claude’s neck, just hanging on while Claude gently pulls his finger out and grips his hips, thrusting up into Ivan. 

 

Claude groans long and low when he comes, sinking slowly into the couch cushions with Ivan on top of him. His hold loosens, turning into gentle strokes along Ivan’s sides and up his back. 

 

“You okay?” he asks after a while. 

 

Ivan hums. He still feels a little shaky, but Claude is solid and and grounding, hands as possessive as they are careful. 

 

“Ivan?” 

 

“Yeah,” he rasps, clearing his throat when he realizes how hoarse he sounds. “I’m okay.” 

 

Shifting enough to let Claude’s softening cock slip from inside him, Ivan sits up, feeling the tenderness of his hole and the ache in his thighs. It’s satisfying, in a way, and he gratefully accepts the kiss Claude draws him into. The mess of come is the only thing that gets them moving from the couch; together, they clean up in the bathroom, Claude pinning him against the counter for another quick kiss. 

 

There’s a message from Travis on his phone when Ivan thinks to check it, and he can feel his face flush hotly when he reads it. 

 

_ I mean it; whatever you need, anytime.  _

 

* * *

 

Ivan has nearly four full days to spend at Nicky’s this time, the All Star break a welcome reprieve and a rare opportunity for Ivan to visit and feed. He feels a bit nervous, not having Claude there to come home to at night, but Nicky promised that nothing had to happen at all if Ivan didn’t want it. The spare room is set up for him, and it’s where Ivan initially puts his bag, taking a few moments to himself to breathe. Nicky is safe, Nicky is familiar, and Claude’s on speed dial if Ivan needs him. 

 

He, of course, plans to watch the game; Claude’s going to play, and Ivan wants to at least watch if he’s not going to be there. In the meantime, though, he has Nicky basically to himself for the full extent of the break. André comes and goes, but he’s mindful enough of Nicky’s watchful gaze that he doesn’t push Ivan’s boundaries too far. 

 

“You look well,” Nicky says with a small smile as they settle at the kitchen island. He’s cooking tonight, some unfamiliar dish that’s basically for when André comes around again. They can eat, of course, for the pleasure, but the food isn’t worth much nutritionally. Still, it’s a nice, comfortable setting and Ivan allows himself to relax. 

 

“I feel pretty good. Better than December.” Nicky nods, a grimace of sympathy flickering across his face as he recalls the abysmal losing streak the Flyers had too-recently broken. 

 

“And you’ve been feeding.” 

 

That makes Ivan blush. Claude and Travis have been keeping him fed and . . . satisfied. It hadn’t been easy at first, but Travis proved that he meant it when he was okay with Ivan and his needs. Nicky’s smile tells him that he can tell what Ivan’s thinking, and Ivan ducks his head. 

 

“Don’t be shy. It’s good that you have others looking out for you. You must know that I have to feed myself.” And - of course, Ivan knew. Between feeding himself and feeding André, Nicky likely has more sources for food than just Ovechkin and - considering how close the rest of the team is to Nicky - Ivan’s sure more than one Capital has volunteered to help. “See? It’s part of who we are.” 

 

“Yeah. It’s been good. Better.” 

 

“That’s good.” 

 

They pass the first evening that way, enjoying each other’s simple company. Ivan settles into his side as they watch TV on the couch, sinking into the contact the same way he would Claude’s. Nicky settles into brushing his fingers along Ivan’s nape, a slow, circular motion that’s soothing right up until they trip over the faint lines of scar tissue. Nicky goes tense, and Ivan can’t help but do the same, knowing and fearing the question that’s sure to come. 

 

“This is where-” Nicky doesn’t have to finish before Ivan nods his head. He curses - Swedish, but a curse all the same. “He hurt you.” 

 

Ivan doesn’t speak. He doesn’t know what to say about it. His turning had been painful and frightening and, frankly, he’s never talked about it before. He’s not sure he wants to start now. 

 

Nicky’s voice is softer when he speaks again. “Oh, Vanya. No wonder you’re scared. He shouldn’t have done that to you.” Gently, Nicky cradles the spot, his fingers cool against Ivan’s skin. “Can you tell me who he is?” 

 

“I, uh, I don’t-” Panic crawls up Ivan’s throat, and he closes his eyes, breathing in hard through his nose, trying to ease the tightness in his chest and the sudden racing of his heart. 

 

“Ivan.” Nicky’s hands guide him closer, tucking his face into Nicky’s chest so all the can smell is his scent. It helps, some; not as much as Claude would but it shoves the memories of his maker to the background. “You don’t have to, not now.” 

 

Gradually, the attack eases. Nicky doesn’t push him, just holds him close and lets him breathe. Ivan feels stupid for having such a strong reaction, but Nicky’s face is free of judgement when he finally sits up. 

 

“I’m sorry.” 

 

“Don’t be. I should’ve known this would be upsetting for you. Another time, maybe.” Nicky keeps him tucked close, but Ivan finds that - by bedtime - he’s still feeling shaken enough that he can’t manage to sleep. He ponders calling Claude; it’s still relatively early on the west coast, and Claude promised him that he’d answer if Ivan needed him, but Ivan’s not sure he wants to explain why he’s calling, why he’s not able to sleep. 

 

Taking a deep breath, Ivan slides out of bed and pads down the hall. Nicky calls for him to come in as soon as Ivan raps on the door, and the low light of the bedside lamp clicks on as he steps into the room. “What’s wrong?” 

 

It feels silly, but Ivan shrugs. “I can’t sleep.” 

 

For a moment, Nicky looks sorrowful. He reaches over to flip down the covers, and beckons Ivan closer. Ivan takes the invitation, crawling across the expanse of the bed to tuck himself in next to Nicky. The lamp clicks off and Nicky settles back down onto the bed, drawing Ivan even closer. 

 

“You’re safe, here, Ivan. I promise.” It’s simple, but the words and Nicky’s proximity helps. Ivan lets the warmth and scent of the other vampire wash over him, drowning out the sense memories in the back of his mind and allowing him to relax enough to sleep. 

 

There’s a moment of panic when Ivan wakes. Nicky is pressed up tight to his back, arm draped around his waist and breath stirring the fine hairs at the nape of his neck. He scrambles to turn over, finding Nicky’s alarmed face looking back at him, obviously startled awake by the movement. 

 

“Ivan?” 

 

“Sorry.” It’s all he wants to say, but Nicky’s still watching him, reaching out slowly to run his hand up Ivan’s arm. 

 

“It’s okay. I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you alright?” 

 

His heart is beating a little too fast, but Ivan nods anyway. It’s Nicky, just Nicky, who doesn’t know and - “He bit me like that. From behind. And he left.” 

 

Nicky’s fingers touch his cheek then, brushing along his stubble. “It’s not meant to be done that way. But then, I think you know that. He should’ve held you. Healed you. Made sure you fed.” 

 

Ivan knows that, now. André and Nicky bear no scars like his, and there isn’t even a glimmer of fear in André when Nicky touches him. Ivan is jealous, in a way; he doesn’t want this fear or the hurt that curls in his chest at the thought of his maker. But Nicky is good to him, coaxing him back into his hold and wrapping Ivan up tight with one arm. The other stretches out, fingers just snagging the cellphone nearby and pressing it into Ivan’s hand. 

 

“You can call him. He’s your intended mate, hm? It’s okay to need him.” 

 

Ivan flushes at the mate comment, but takes the phone. He shakily dials Claude, thankful that he’s stored in Nicky’s contacts. Claude’s voice is sleepy as he picks up. 

 

“Nicklas?” 

 

“It’s me.” 

 

“Ivan.” Sleepiness fades and tension picks up in Claude’s tone; Ivan’s already feeling bad about waking him, but he can’t deny that hearing Claude’s voice is already helping. “What’s wrong?” 

 

“I just, ah. I needed to hear you. Sorry I woke you.” 

 

“No, hey. It’s alright. You’re okay?” 

 

“He had a rough night,” Nicky interjects, just loud enough for Claude to hear. Ivan would be irritated, but Claude makes a soft sound on the other end. 

 

“I can come back. The game’s not that important.” 

 

“No. You should play. Just - talk to me for a while? Is that okay?” 

 

There’s rustling on the other end, and Ivan assumes Claude’s getting comfortable. He talks about the other guys and the media they’re due to do today before the skills competition; some of Ivan’s regret is soothed by Claude reminding him he would’ve had to get up soon anyway just to get ready. His voice washes over Ivan and soon he’s dozing against Nicky’s chest, the phone cradled against his ear slipping slightly. 

 

“Ivan,” Claude says at last, jerking him slightly back to wakefulness. “I have to go soon. Are you sure you don’t want me to come back?” 

 

“Stay. I’ll be okay,” Ivan yawns midway through his sentence, and he can hear Claude chuckle on the other side. “I’ll be watching.” 

 

“Okay. Call again if you need to. I’ll do my best to answer.” 

 

Nicky takes the phone back when Ivan’s bid Claude goodbye, tossing it somewhere behind him on the bed. Ivan drifts, comfortable and relaxed now. It’s only when Nicky pecks him on the forehead and gently extricates himself that Ivan stretches and lets himself really start to wake.

 

Ivan pays close attention because for the first time since they met, something doesn’t seem right with Nicky. His skin is paler than normal and it seems like he’s fighting his body a little to move.

 

“Nicky?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“When was the last time you fed?”

 

Just a little smile and a peck on the cheek is answer enough. “You’re perceptive.”

 

“You’re not hiding it very well.”

 

Nicky laughs and Ivan settles, afraid he almost overstepped. “No, not really. Alex wanted to feed me before he left for the game, but I declined. Told him he needed all his strength for the slapshot challenge and he could feed me a little extra when he got home.”

 

Standing produced a groan and… Ivan couldn’t shake the memory of Claude biting at his neck. Once he noticed how much Ivan liked the press of teeth against his own skin, it became a regular thing during sex, not that Ivan minded.

 

He could help. The thought made his heart race with nerves, but. Nicky took care of him. This was just returning the favor.

 

“Would you, ah… I could feed you.”

 

“I wouldn’t ask that of you.”

 

“You aren’t asking,” Ivan says, much more sure. “Let me? You don’t need to suffer until Alex comes home.”

 

Nicky stares at him from across the room. That intense set to Nicky’s face always makes Ivan’s heart attempt to crawl up his throat, but he waits it out this time. Knowing what being hungry is like and now being full near constantly… There’s no reason for Nicky to starve.

 

“There’s a particular place I like to feed from.” Nicky’s voice is quiet. It’s odd to hear something close to embarrassment coloring the words of a 500-year-old vampire. “Would you let me?”

 

“Yes. As long as-”

 

“You’ll be able to look at me the whole time.”

 

Ivan nods. It’s the first time he’s been bit since he was turned. Limiting the chances of a panic attack seems wise.

 

Back in front of him, Nicky offers a hand to Ivan, getting him out of bed so he can wrap his arms around Ivan’s waist and hold him close.

 

“As long as you’re sure. I wouldn’t mind a little bit to hold me over until Alex returns.”

 

“Please, let me feed you.”

 

Hands trail down his back to his hips, gently tucking thumbs into the waistband of his boxers. The hesitation - the opportunity to say no is there, but Ivan doesn’t want to.

 

Nicky pushes the material down his thighs, far enough that gravity helps it to the floor and Ivan can step out of them. Being naked in front of Nicky hasn’t been something his dick could ignore and it isn’t going to start now, it seems. He’s starting to stiffen, but it’s under control for the moment.

 

“Sit on the bed?” He kisses Ivan gently before sending him off with a slight nudge.

 

Ivan complies, making himself comfortable with his hands positioned over his lap in a way that may hide the starts of his erection. What he expects is for Nicky to come sit beside him, but he gets to his knees in front of him and damn if that sight doesn’t make him harder.

 

Nicky rubs his hands along the tops of Ivan’s thighs, over his knee, down the side of his calves and back. “Spread your legs for me, Vanya.”

 

Embarrassment burns his skin, and it’s the one large disadvantage of being well fed. Ivan does what he’s told and opens them, making a space that Nicky quickly fills. He rubs the soft skin of his inner thighs and Ivan shivers. There isn’t a way to subtly cover an erection with his legs spread, so Ivan grips the sheets at his hips instead, letting Nicky come face-level with his mostly-hard cock.

 

“Don’t be shy. You're very pretty.” Nicky kisses the inside of his thigh near the knee and then trails down closer to his groin.

 

The visual is too much and Ivan has to bite down on his lower lip. Nicky’s mouthing at the bare skin beside his cock and his hand is curled around the outside of Ivan’s thigh, holding him where he pleases. He’s licking over one spot, letting the numbing agent go to work and Ivan can feel his own gums itching where his fangs are threatening to peek through.

 

Nicky’s fangs are fully extended when he looks up at Ivan. “You’re okay?”

 

It’s an immediate nod but Ivan doesn’t dare speak. It would probably just come out as a moan.

 

“Just a minute more. If you ever feed from Claude here, make sure you numb him well. Being where it is, this one can hurt, but it can also feel very good if done right.” He leans in to give Ivan’s skin three more swipes of his tongue.

 

He’s exposed, spread open and waiting like this. Ivan doesn’t think he can get any harder until Nicky’s fangs graze his skin and then he’s biting through.

 

_ Oh god _ . Nicky’s drinking in little suckling pulls, not the long, deep ones Ivan was trained to take. He knows he has to stay still but it’s so, so hard. If Ivan closed his eyes, he doesn’t think he’d be able to tell whether Nicky was feeding or sucking his dick.

 

Precome leaks from Ivan’s slit and runs down over his length when there’s too much of it slicking the head. As if the whole things wasn’t vaguely humiliating enough, Ivan’s cock twitches at the thought, brushing against Nicky’s cheek.

 

“Fuck, I’m sorry.”

 

"It's okay to like it," Nicky reassures him, lapping at the bitemark and licking the blood from his own lips. "We're meant to." 

 

Ivan's still got embarrassment curling in his gut, but it fades in the face of pleasure when Nicky starts to stroke his cock.

 

His fist is tight, the movement slow and controlled in a way that shouldn’t be possible at the moment. Ivan feels frantic and maybe he now understands a little bit more of André’s desperation to be touched by Nicky.

 

And there’s blood slowly filling his mouth where his fangs pierced his lip trying to keep quiet. He’s kept it to some muffled whines, but it’s too much.

 

Nicky must smell the blood because he looks up to check on him. Even withdrawing his fangs makes Ivan shiver. His strokes turn a little faster when he sees Ivan's face and tells him, "Go ahead. You can be as loud as you want. I'm the only one here to hear you."

 

"Nicky, please?" His first words are still soft but wavering and then he almost sobs when Nicky puts his mouth back to the bite. With the small swallows Nicky has been taking, there’s no way to tell how many are left.

 

He’s shocked to feel the tension building, knowing he can come just from the tightness of Nicky’s fist. Every stroke is still slow. Under normal circumstances it wouldn’t be enough, but each time Nicky sucks, he’s dragged closer.

 

“I’m-” Nicky’s eyes flash up to him. The mixture of caring and possession forces Ivan to look away. “Fuck, gonna-”

 

He comes with a low cry as Nicky takes a true swallow, the pull of it makes his head spin, drawing the sensation out. Every tug of Nicky’s fist is getting more from him and Ivan isn’t sure it’s going to stop.

 

Ivan moans and curses, partially in English but mostly in Russian. Finally - once Nicky removes his fangs and stops stroking his cock - Ivan starts to catch his breath.

 

He can barely focus, but Nicky is gently pressing him backwards to lie down and Ivan goes easy. Nicky’s next to him, not cuddling him, but relaxing nearby. Ivan’s groggy now, but he opens his eyes because he knows Nicky will be waiting for confirmation that he’s okay.

 

Fuck. That's his come that Nicky's licking off his hand and there’s a tiny bit clinging to his chin. Reaching out, Ivan wipes it away, intending to clean it off on the sheets somewhere until Nicky catches his finger with his mouth. His eyes are dark when they meet Ivan’s, cheeks flushed warm. He releases Ivan’s finger and sighs contentedly, closing his eyes for just a moment. 

 

“Thank you. You were perfect. How are you feeling?” 

 

“Sleepy,” Ivan mumbles truthfully. He doesn’t feel hungry, just dazed from the feeding and orgasm. There’s a faint throb where Nicky bit him, and his hand drifts down to touch there. The skin is smooth, unmarked but tender as Ivan presses down. It sends a shock of arousal through him, sharp enough to make him gasp. 

 

“Careful.” Gently, Nicky guides his hand away, threading their fingers together to keep him from touching. Ivan edges closer to him, grateful when Nicky wraps an arm around him. 

 

“Do you need…?” 

 

With a soft laugh, Nicky shakes his head. “That’s nice of you, but no. Rest, Ivan.” 

 

Taking him at his word, Ivan dozes for a while, basking in Nicky’s proximity and renewed warmth. Distantly, he registers the buzz of Nicky’s phone, and he can feel the soft huff of a laugh that Nicky gives. 

 

“He really cares about you,” Nicky murmurs in response to the little questioning sound that Ivan makes. Cracking his eyes open, Ivan blinks until he can focus on the screen Nicky is tilting toward him. 

 

_ Ivan with you? _ Is all the text says, but it warms Ivan anyway. Nicky gets an angle of them in the camera, Ivan looking away from his own face on the screen. The phone buzzes again a few seconds later.  _ You look comfortable. I’m jealous.  _ The message is accompanied by Claude’s own selfie, his hair immaculately combed and revealing the crisp white button up he’s dressed in. 

 

Not far behind it is Alex’s own selfie and a row of seemingly-nonsensical emojis that make Nicky laugh anyway. He types out a series of his own, quickly hitting send before dropping the phone back on the bedside table. The ringing of the doorbell shatters the easy quiet, and Nicky sighs loud enough that Ivan can practically see the eye roll. 

 

“André,” he mutters, “maybe Christian, too. I can tell them to come back another time.” 

 

“It’s okay. I’ll shower and change.” 

 

Giving him a quick hair ruffle, Nicky rolls out of bed and pulls on clothes, heading down the stairs as Ivan pads back to the guest room. There are a few messages from Claude that he’s missed, some more recent than the one he sent Nicky. Some are pictures with the other attendees, that morph into more photos of him with animals once Ivan has showered and joined the others downstairs. 

 

André has evidently sweet-talked Nicky into cooking, unabashedly hovering while a slightly more embarrassed-looking Christian Djoos is perched at the far end of the kitchen island. Ivan pours himself a coffee before picking a seat a couple chairs away. 

 

“Christian, Ivan. You already know André.” Nicky gestures at them with his spatula, and - while André sends Ivan a rather dirty grin - Christian gives him a polite but quiet hello. “They’re going to be joining us for the day.” 

 

It’s nice, really. André is chatty enough to warm up Christian and to bring out Nicky’s relentlessly chirpy side, even when they pile into the living room together to watch TV before the skills competition. They take turns drawing Ivan into the conversation without pushing him too hard to speak. André’s energy makes Ivan a little nervous, still, but Nicky reins him in with a reprimand or a quick headlock, nudging him into the couch or dumping him on Christian to instigate a tussle. 

 

It’s a nice evening that morphs into a comfortable night. Ivan is more than ready for bed, slipping into the guest room after bidding Nicky goodnight. Christian and André had left not long after the skills competition ended, André digging an agreement for them to return in the morning for the games before letting Christian tow him out the door. 

 

While it’s late on the east coast, it’s not so much on the west. Claude calls as soon as Ivan texts him, voice loud and happy. There’s so much noise in the background of the call, but it tapers off to a dull sound.

 

“What’re you still doing up?”

 

“André and Christian came over to watch the skills comp and then Nicky and I just stayed up.” Ivan can’t help yawning at the end of his sentence and he jumps back in before Claude has a chance to tell him to go to bed. “I wanted to be able to talk to you before I fell asleep.”

 

“Well, I’m glad you called. I love hearing your voice, but I also had a question for you.”

 

“Oh?” he sits up a little straighter against the headboard. It doesn’t sound like it’s going to be the most serious conversation they’ve ever had, but he wants to give Claude his attention.

 

“I met another vampire here. Like, he’s out to the league, but I got to know him during the skills competition today. He’s a bit older than you, but closer in age to you than Nicky. He offered to show you around and make sure you’re fed the next time we’re visiting. I could give him your number so you guys could get to know each other.”

 

Another vampire? Ivan was plenty content with the way their feedings were working. It wasn’t like he  _ needed _ anything more. Claude sounded eager and a bit excited about the prospect of Ivan having someone else, though. Maybe it won’t be the worst thing.

 

“Sure, you can give him my number. Who is it?”

 

“Auston Matthews.”

 

* * *

 

Ivan’s heart thumps in his chest, the scent of dozens of unfamiliar vampires swirling around him as he follows Auston into the club. He’s regretting agreeing to this, now. He’s not even on his own turf in Philly; instead, he’s relying on  _ Auston Matthews _ of all people to be his guide around the Toronto scene. Sure, Nicky and Claude had reassured him that Auston was a good guy, on top of what Ivan knew of him from playing the Leafs, but there’s still no accounting for other people or other vampires. 

 

So far, Auston has been courteous, conscientious of Ivan’s wariness. He’s kept himself between Ivan and the crowd as much as he can, keeping a firm grip on Ivan’s hand as they weave through the club toward a cluster of tables. 

 

“Wait here?” Auston has to yell to be heard over the thumping music, so Ivan just nods in return. He watches as Auston disappears into the crowd, headed for the bar to grab them a couple of drinks. While he waits, Ivan tries to avoid making eye contact and keeps his back straight, hoping it will be enough to deter anyone from approaching. 

 

Unfortunately, it doesn’t quite work. A hand lands low on Ivan’s back as a man steps up to his side. He smells strongly of blood and cigarettes, an unpleasant combination that makes Ivan’s nose wrinkle. 

 

“Hey. Care for a drink?” The vampire steps close, forcing Ivan to step back or allow contact until he’s caught between the man and the pillar behind him. Dark eyes fall to Ivan’s throat and there’s a hint of fang when the man smiles at him. “You’re brave, coming in here alone. Lot of us would take advantage of an unclaimed fledgling. What brings you here?” 

 

Ivan’s searching for an answer, any way to deter the other vampire, when a hand slips between him and the other vampire, pushing him backward hard enough that the stranger nearly topples the table while trying to catch himself. 

 

“I do,” Auston bites out, pulling Ivan to his chest and wrapping his arms around his waist. He turns them enough to put as much of his body between Ivan and the stranger as he can “He’s mine. Back off.” 

 

“He certainly doesn’t  _ smell _ like yours,” the other guy shoots back, curling his lip so more of his fang shows. 

 

Gently, Auston nips at Ivan’s throat, teeth just sharp enough to sting. He licks at the spot, and a low growl rumbles out of him, loud enough Ivan can feel it vibrate in his own chest. The stranger gets the message, at least, throwing Ivan a dirty look before melting back into the crowd. 

 

"You're shyer in person," Auston murmurs, continuing to rub his face against Ivan's neck and shoulder. It makes Ivan blush, but Auston hums and kisses his cheek. "Not a bad thing but we should probably stick together."

 

"Um, yeah." Auston’s nuzzling right behind his ear where he’s sensitive and Ivan shivers. The hands still resting against his waist are bleeding warmth into Ivan and Auston must be pretty well fed for that much heat.

 

He stays close to Ivan after that, tactile even as he points out other vamps around the club, some with vampire partners, some with human ones. Ivan blushes to see people feeding in the open, the arousal around them cloying in his nose and he realizes Auston can probably smell his own stirring interest.

 

Ivan has to shift to make his pants a little more comfortable. Auston’s mouthing at his neck in between sentences and it’s making him dizzy. If he was fully fed, he'd be blushing, but what little heat he can manage dotted his cheeks when Auston started growling before. 

 

"Just tell me to stop if you need to. We can leave whenever." Auston coaxes him up and out onto the dancefloor, insinuating one of his thighs between Ivan’s, and working them into a grinding rhythm with the beat.

 

Ivan isn't small but Auston’s hands on his hips - and occasionally rubbing over his sides and back - are so big. Ivan can feel Auston growing stiff when he grinds against him. He moans softly when Auston’s fingers dance up his chest and over his nipple and that makes Auston still for a moment before he tucks his face against Ivan's throat and breathes him in. 

 

"Can I?" he asks softly, running his hands down Ivan’s body, dropping low enough to caress his ass before skimming back up.

 

He’s nodding but not enough to dislodge Auston. "Yeah, I..." he’s going to add a caveat, but right now he doesn’t have one. He wants what Auston wants to give him. "Please, Auston?"

 

Auston nicks his throat just enough to make him bleed and slips a hand between Ivan's legs, fondling him as they move.

 

He doesn’t latch on and suck - no. He’d been told Auston sometimes likes to make a bit of a mess, licking up drops with the tip of his tongue. Kissing the bleeding wound so some of it gets on his lips and smears around Ivan’s pale throat. 

 

“Has anyone ever told you how you taste? God, you’re fucking incredible,” Auston moans against his skin before taking another sip. Whether it’s the feeding or the compliment, Ivan’s cock twitches hard under Auston’s palm.

 

Ivan's dizzy with it, but he doesn’t want to come here, not in a crowd of strangers. "Auston-"   
Auston, to his credit, pulls back at the hint of protest in Ivan's voice, but he relaxes as soon as Ivan hisses, "Don’t - not here."

 

"Okay," he says and rubs Ivan one more time before resting his hand back on Ivan’s hip. "I won't." Auston inhales deeply, catching Ivan’s scent. There’s no way he can’t tell that Ivan wants this. "Maybe when we leave, though? I want to make you come, Ivan."

 

Ivan whines and nods; he’s nervous, but clinging to the belief that if he changes his mind later that Auston will respect it. 

  
Auston licks his neck clean and tugs Ivan toward a corner of the dancefloor that isn’t as brightly lit. If he wasn’t going to let Auston get him off in the middle of the floor, he’s not going to do it here, either. He’s about to scold him, but Auston tilts his head back, offering his neck.

 

Oh. 

 

For some reason, he didn’t expect Auston to feed him their first time out. He hadn’t even mentioned that it’d been over a week. Ivan must be making a face because Auston laughs and then leans in to be heard.

 

“Did you think this was just about me? You’re cold, you need to eat. That’s why I didn’t really take anything from you.” Auston kisses him on the cheek and tilts his head back again as he settles against the wall. “Go on.”

 

“I-” Ivan’s grateful, he is, but something’s holding him back. He can feel his stomach go tight when Auston frowns at him for a moment, but then his expression clears. 

 

“Saving that for someone special, huh? That’s okay.” Ivan’s feels embarrassment crawl across his face, but as soon as Auston says the words, he knows it’s true; but Auston’s offering his wrist, now, and Ivan’s hungry enough that he’s not going to refuse. 

 

Burying his feelings for now, Ivan lets his teeth sink through the thin skin and warmth floods his mouth. He drinks in slow pulls, just the way Nicky taught him. Gentle, thorough, ten only. Auston’s panting just a bit and he has to reach between them to palm himself as Ivan drinks. 

 

"So polite," Auston murmurs, kissing Ivan’s neck once he cleans the wound and lets go of his wrist.

 

"I had a good teacher." Auston's neck being this close makes him want to breathe him in, scrape his teeth along the curve of shoulder to neck, but nothing more.

 

Ivan's warm and dizzy from Auston's blood and the heat of the club. The music changes, and Auston drags him back out onto the floor. They dance to the harder beat, Auston keeping Ivan in his arms so they're face to face. Auston bites with blunt, human teeth over his pulse, making Ivan shudder against him. It's a dirty thrill, having someone who isn’t Claude or Nicky sinking their teeth into his skin.

 

Ivan's thankful for the way that Auston keeps him close without pressing their hips together too tight. Feeding usually got him hard and aching, but with the way Auston was touching him earlier, Ivan had been steadily working his way toward orgasm. He's appreciating the moment to breathe and settle back down.

 

The occasional grind proves that Auston is still very much interested and it stokes the burn low in Ivan's gut. Hooking up isn’t normally his thing, not with someone he doesn’t know well, but Ivan feels strung out on blood and touch and he doesn’t know what to do with it.

 

Ivan lets Auston guide him through several more songs, following him up to the bar a few times for drinks. Now and again, Auston plies him with water, keeping Ivan on the edge of buzzed, just enough to heighten the want curling in his belly.

 

He’s shaking at every touch. Auston’s hands have this undeniable power to turn him into a puddle and they need to leave now if he’s going to avoid embarrassing himself in public. Ivan hasn't changed his mind about not wanting to come in the middle of the club, but his inhibition about making  _ Auston _ come is starting to slip. If this is going to happen, it needs to just be between them.

 

"Auston," Ivan whisper-yells, just loud enough to be heard over the music. Auston looks him in the eye, a smile curling his lips when Ivan casts a look toward the door. He tows Ivan through the crowd, wrapping an arm around him to keep him warm against the brisk Toronto night.

 

They don't feel cold the same as humans but it still nips at his skin in a way that makes him shiver. Ivan leans into Auston's side a little heavier, letting more of their bodies press together, wrapping his arm around Auston's waist. The idea of being away from him now makes Ivan want to snarl.

 

Auston orders them an Uber, keeping them mostly out of sight until the car gets there; that way, he can nuzzle at Ivan's throat and caress his side without garnering any unwanted attention. It's hard to put space between them, but they buckle themselves into the car, the air tense on the short ride back to Auston's.

 

Halfway through the drive, Ivan figures out that he has to breathe through his mouth. Auston's scent can’t keep him high if he's only getting hints of it across his tongue. With the way Auston's staring at him like he's debating launching himself across the seat, Ivan doesn't think he stopped scenting him.

 

They barely make it up to Auston's apartment before Ivan's pinned up against the wall. Auston's mouth is warm, demanding as he cradles Ivan's jaw in one hand, thumb rasping along his stubble.

 

It isn't like kissing Claude. Claude's sweet with him even when the kisses turn a little rougher. Auston kisses like he's trying to consume him and - right now - Ivan would gladly let him. His hands on Ivan's face are a soft counterpoint and Ivan has to grip Auston's hips to keep focused.

 

Ivan stumbles after Auston to his bedroom, the two of them stopping once along the way so Auston can steal another kiss before they're shutting the door behind them. Auston undresses Ivan like he knows him, like it's his  _ right _ to be able to touch, and it's heady, almost too much. For a moment, Ivan quivers, sense memory setting off alarms in his head. He grasps Auston's wrists, and Auston lets him pull his hands away.  

  
"Too fast?" Auston asks, voice rough with want but laced with concern.

 

"Yeah." Getting the word out is harder than it should be, but he's trying to swallow back the spike of panic. “Sorry.” 

 

"Okay. It's okay. Whatever you want to do, Ivan. If you want to stop, that's okay." He's waiting while Ivan's breathing slows and his eyes clear. 

 

Auston isn't the same as his maker. Ivan doesn’t feel like just a plaything here. It’s about having fun, but he doesn’t feel cheap. 

 

Ivan's grip on his wrists loosen and Auston reaches out to touch his cheek, petting gently at the blood-warm flush with his fingertips. He draws Ivan in slow, cradling his hips in big hands and kissing him easy. "Sorry. Got carried away," he murmurs. "You alright?"

 

Ivan nods. "Yeah," his voice croaks, but he's wound tight. Auston got him so worked up and he needs the release if he's even going to be able to think in the next week.

 

Auston undresses him more slowly now, letting Ivan return the favor until they're both naked. Together, they crawl up onto the bed, Auston gently tumbling Ivan under him, but pinning him in place with his sheer bulk. It's easier, here, to let Auston build back up to the near fever pitch pace they'd been at; they're surrounded by his scent and all Ivan can see and feel is Auston above him.

 

Ivan keeps both hands on Auston's back, keeping him close. He's fighting himself because he wants Auston to be inside him, but he doesn't want to let him go long enough to get there. His nails dig in and Auston's gasping into his mouth. Ivan can't tell if he broke skin. "Sorry, sorry," Ivan licks into Auston's mouth, attempting to soothe.   
  


Auston groans softly instead. "It's good. You can be rough with me."

 

There's no hesitation as Auston stretches Ivan on thick fingers, and Ivan clings tight when Auston pushes in. He's bigger than Claude, longer, and Ivan hasn't been with anyone else in long enough that the stretch is a lot, all at once. He gladly takes the kiss Auston offers, aware that the breathy, whining sound filling the room is coming from his own mouth.

 

Auston goes slow when he starts thrusting and, Jesus, Ivan is grateful. It feels like his gut is being hollowed out with how deep Auston can get. Once he adjusts, there isn't hesitation. Auston fucks into him with sharp thrusts and how can he possibly be getting deeper?

 

Ivan takes Auston at his word, scratching at his back because it's all he can do as Auston fucks him. It aches, but it's so good that Ivan doesn't want to ask him to stop. He rolls his hips up, trying - for more? For relief? He's not sure, but it gets Auston to gasp, so Ivan keeps moving.

 

Auston gets one hand behind Ivan's knee, pressing him open while he rests his weight on the other forearm. His face is tucked against Ivan's neck this way and he can feel Auston’s moans as well as hear them. "You feel so fucking good. Claude must love this."

 

Ivan clenches at the mention of Claude, startling gasps from them both. Auston laughs breathlessly and kisses Ivan's neck. "Yeah? He must take good care of you. Fuck, you went so tight."

 

If he was capable of blushing through the flush of exercise, Ivan's cheeks would have darkened even more. "So good to me," Ivan whimpers as Auston keeps pounding into him. He doesn’t know if he’s talking about Auston or Claude, but it’s true either way. "God, I'm fucking close, Auston, please."

 

Auston drives in just a bit harder, nicking Ivan's neck and lapping at the cut. He seals it, leaning up to kiss Ivan and Ivan didn't think the taste of his own blood would make his cock twitch, but it does. His fangs drop slightly, just enough to catch Auston's lip. Before Ivan can apologize, Auston is pressing their mouths together, smearing blood between them.

 

Auston is panting when he pulls back, letting Ivan get a good look at his fangs. They're a little longer than Ivan's own and the light sheen of blood on his teeth and lips is breathtaking. Ivan didn’t think he was going to be able to come without a hand this time, but seeing Auston so disheveled and needing gives him the push.

 

Ivan can hardly move with the way Auston has him pinned, but his body twists against his hold, anyway. Auston fucks him through it, coming himself just before the stimulation gets to be too much for Ivan. There's blood in Ivan's mouth, come wet on his belly and inside him as Auston gently pulls out. He's sore and a little dizzy with orgasm and blood, grateful for the steady weight of Auston on top of him.

 

He can feel the raised welts all down Auston’s back as he pets at it and he probably needs to heal some of those where Auston can’t reach. Ivan pulls him down next to him and snuggles into Auston’s arms, so close he can feel him chuckle. 

 

"I'm not going anywhere. You can relax here as long as you need," Auston says and kisses him softly.

 

"I just need to be back before skate tomorrow." Ivan can feel Auston nod, and lets himself doze. Auston smells good, mellow now that they've come; the scent of their sweat and cum mingle, tangy-sour notes beneath the metal-salt bite of blood. It's different than Claude or Nicky, but it's still pretty good.

  
  


* * *

 

Hotel room doors are never quiet, but he tries to keep it down when he sneaks back into Claude’s room early in the morning. Sure, he could have stayed a while longer with Auston before he had to get moving so he’d be on time for morning skate, but he couldn’t. He didn’t want to. Ivan kissed him goodbye when he left, thanked him for a great time, but he knew where he wanted to be.

 

“Ivan?” The words are grumbly with sleep but it’s endearing to hear Claude like this. It’s the opposite of captainly and it makes Ivan’s heart swell.

 

“Yeah, it’s me.” He sets his wallet and key card on the end table by the door before coming around to the side of Claude’s bed. 

 

Normally, he’d crawl right in regardless of the fact that he’s wearing the suit from the night before, but Ivan is aware that he needs to shower before getting much closer. He still smells like Auston, sex - Claude may only have human senses, but even he would be able to smell that.

 

“Figured… be back… ugh, it’s early.” He groans into the pillow.

 

“It is, yes. But I, ah. I don’t know. I couldn’t stay any longer. Couldn’t sleep.”

 

Claude’s awake then. “Is everything okay? Did something happen? Ivan, you’d tell me, right?”

 

Screw keeping his distance. He leans in enough, knee planted on the bed, so he can kiss Claude and run his fingers through his hair just once. “I’m alright. Everything was fine, Auston was good to me. You don’t need to look like you’re going to get out of this bed and go kill him.”

 

Another kiss, Claude leaning in this time, and then he chuckles and stretches under the sheets. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to jump like that.”

 

“It’s okay.”

 

Claude shakes his head. “If something had happened to you, it would have been my fault for introducing you to him.” He catches Ivan’s eye. “I’d hate that.”

 

The words are right there. The ones that Ivan’s been thinking since a distant conversation with Nicky and then again last night. They’d driven him from Auston’s bed. Made him unable to sleep through the night and now here he is with Claude and he just needs to ask.

 

“I’m going to shower.” Not quite it, but it’ll buy him more time to get his head on straight. “Be here when I get back?”

 

“There’s still two hours before we have to be at morning skate. Like hell I’m getting out of this bed.”

 

His own soap and shampoo are in the shower, set up where he unpacked them last night, but Ivan immediately goes for Claude’s soap. He doesn’t want to smell like Auston. He doesn’t want to smell like himself right now, either.

 

Once he’s clean, dry and in a fresh pair of boxers, then he crawls into bed next to Claude who immediately tugs him close, sniffing against his neck.

 

“Mmm, you smell like me. You’re mine.”

 

Ivan would be an idiot not to take the segue, as sleep-addled as it may be.

 

“Claude, um. I want to talk about something. It can wait until later if now isn’t good, bu-”

 

“No, now is fine.” He rubs his face, clearing his eyes and focuses that stare on Ivan. The one that makes him nervous and excited at the same time. “What’s going on, Ivan?”

 

The first time he opens his mouth, nothing comes out. Claude is patient with him, doesn’t rush him or try to supply what the conversation may be about. He just waits for Ivan to ready himself, gently rubbing circles in the small of his back.

 

“I don’t… Auston was great. He took care of me, we had fun, but I don’t think I want to be set up with other vampires while we’re on the road.”

 

“It’s a good source to make sure you’re fed, though.”

 

“I know, but.” Ivan ducks his head, unable to keep eye contact right this second. “I don’t want to end up sleeping with other people just because they feed me and that needs to be taken care of, too. I’ve got Travis on the team if things get bad, and Nicky in DC, but that’s it.” 

 

Ivan gives a frustrated sigh, which Claude gently answers with a, “Take your time.”

 

“I can feed from the two of them, but I want to be feeding from you. And I want you to be there with me afterwards. Just you. All the time.” Ivan doesn’t say forever because that would just be too much but he really hopes Claude gets it.

 

Claude hesitates and for that split second, Ivan knows he’s getting rejected. His stomach absolutely plummets and the panic must read on his face because Claude is pulling him in tighter, kissing his temple, holding on like Ivan might be about to bolt from his bed.

 

“Ivan, the answer’s yes, but I need to make sure. Are you asking me to be your mate?”

 

The words get caught in his throat, so he just nods vigorously where he’s hiding against Claude’s neck.

 

“Good. I want to be your mate. Wanted to for a while now, but I didn’t think I was supposed to bring that up.”

 

“Could have,” Ivan mumbles against Claude’s throat. If they were in their own bed, he would do it right now. Bite and claim Claude as his own and teach him how to claim Ivan, but the moment isn’t right. “Vampires with human mates aren’t entirely uncommon. They’re out there.”

 

“I know. Nicky and Alex, for one.”

 

Ivan pulls back just enough to look at Claude. “How did you know?”

 

“Neither of them are as subtle as they think.” Claude runs a slow hand up and down Ivan’s back. “Plus Alex, at the All Star Game, all he could talk about when the cameras weren’t around was Nicky and . . . I knew how he felt. It was fun, but I wanted you there.” 

 

Ivan leans up to kiss him then, feeling his heart skip a beat when Claude pulls him closer. He’s going to call Nicky as soon as they’re home and make him walk Ivan through how to do the claiming properly, but - for now- he’s content to melt into Claude’s hold and take advantage of their alone time before it’s time for morning skate. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> You can find us on tumblr:  
> gostisbehere at [gostisbhere](http://gostisbhere.tumblr.com/) and [mousemarns](http://mousemarns.tumblr.com/)  
> and elenajames at [iaintafraidofnoghostbear](http://iaintafraidofnoghostbear.tumblr.com/).


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